Earworm
by cmr2014
Summary: Even an annoying song can unlock a special memory.


DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Lyrics to "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen.

**Earworm**

"_Food! Food! Food!_" The sound of knives and forks being pounded on the dining table came in time to the loud chant. For two people, Milly Thompson and Vash the Stampede's brother sure could make a racket.

Meryl Stryfe ducked into the kitchen, ostensibly to see if the cook needed help, more to get away from the cacophony. The aroma of cooking filled her nostrils.

"It's nice to see Knives can behave well enough to be allowed around people, but I think he and Milly are about to storm the kitchen," she observed wryly. "How's dinner coming?"

Her husband Vash shot her a quick grin as he finished draining blanched vegetables into a strainer. Shirt sleeves rolled up exposing well-muscled, well-scarred arms; kitchen towel draped over his shoulder; that cocky grin – Vash the Stampede made quite the picture as a cook. "Y'all can have it good, or you can have it fast."

Meryl cocked an ear to the "_Food!_" chant still going. "I think they want it good and fast. Need any help?"

Jerked his head. "Put those steaks in that pan, would you? Don't let them cook long, either – the proper way to cook a steak is put it in, flip it over, take it out."

"Some of us don't like it that way," she stated as she used tongs to place the two waiting steaks in their pan.

"Knives and I do, and he might try to kill me again if he doesn't get his meat. You and Milly get a separate meal. Check to see if the water's ready," he instructed as he carried the blanched vegetables to the stovetop and added them to a pot of simmering stock.

Meryl lifted a lid and observed the heated water. "Rolling boil."

"Excellent. A little kosher salt here –" He added salt to the boiling water. "– a little over here –" Added salt to the stock. "– and now this." Poured a heaping amount of ramen noodles into the boiling water. "Flip the steaks, please."

As Meryl turned the steaks, Vash turned up the radio and sang along.

"I threw a wish in the well,

Don't ask me, I'll never tell

I looked to you as it fell…"

Meryl turned the radio back down. "I can't stand that song!"

Vash blinked in surprise. "You can't?"

"Crying out loud, no! It's an annoying little song that worms its way into your head and takes days to leave, and it doesn't even sound good to me."

"That's funny. I happen to like it. I thought you would, too."

"Why on earth would I like _that_ song?"

Vash's expression was slightly hurt. "You don't know why?"

"Of course not! Is there some particular reason I should?"

"Well, now that you mention it – crap, the food!" He hurried to tend to the ramen and add it to the stock, and Meryl sprang to remove the steaks before they cooked past the precious rare that both Vash and Knives preferred. Whatever reason she might like some silly song aimed at teenagers was forgotten as they finished preparing dinner.

Vash wielded a spatula and Meryl a wooden spoon as they emerged with the food, smacking down two pairs of grabbing hands that seemed more like ten as they served. "Back, you ravenous beasts!" Vash commanded. "Meryl and I have to eat, too! Back, I say!"

After the meal, he listened to the idle conversation of Meryl and Milly, looked at the empty plates around the table. He was glad it was not his turn to cook breakfast tomorrow, for there clearly would be no leftovers to fall back on. It would be Knives' turn to cook, so Vash was betting there would be four bowls of dry cereal and a barked "Get your own damn milk!"

Later, as Vash brushed his teeth before bed, he found that song from earlier stuck in his head. Started humming it. He quite liked it – or rather, the images it evoked.

Meryl, on the other hand, just could not bring herself to like it, not even hearing it hummed as she brushed her teeth beside him. "Wi'u tho' thi'i' tha?"

He glanced at her as he continued to brush. "Hah?"

She scowled at his innocent look and spit and rinsed. "Will you stop singing that?"

"Uh. I' na thi'i', I' hu'i'."

"What?"

Now he spit and rinsed. "I'm not singing, I'm humming."

"And I'm going to bed," Meryl said pointedly. "And you'll be sleeping on the couch if I hear any more of that tune coming from you!" She left, leaving Vash to chuckle behind her.

She did not remember what he liked about that song. That was ok; he would remind her.

The next evening, after Meryl had had time to unwind from work and after the nightly food riot had been dealt with, Vash asked Meryl to step outside with him. Led her onto the deck, where a stereo was waiting.

Meryl's suspicions were raised, but it was too late. He hit PLAY and took her in her arms and proceeded to dance with her to that hideous song.

"What are you doing?" she squealed, squirming to get away. "You know I can't stand this song!"

"That's only because you've forgotten ," Vash told her sternly, holding on to her tightly. "Just give it a listen, I'm sure it'll come back to you. Just think back to the town's Founders' Day party, the year I came back with Knives. Listen to the words."

Against her will, the song's lyrics seeped into Meryl's head.

"Your stare was holdin'

Ripped jeans, skin was showin'

Hot night, wind was blowin'

Where you think you're goin', baby?"

The memory hit Meryl in a flash.

_It had not been so long after Vash arrived back with Knives, and Meryl had been overjoyed to see the outlaw return. But if she had expected things to end like a fairy tale for them, she was sadly mistaken, for Vash spent most of his time tending to Knives, and she had the demands of work. It was rare when they had a moment together to talk._

_Inevitably, when Meryl finally broached the subject of where things were headed with them, Vash managed to stick his foot in his mouth. She spent three days refusing to talk to him over his ill-advised "Well, Knives says it's time to 'shit or get off the pot'." Was intending to make it longer, then the Founders' Day party happened._

_She had intended to be Milly's designated sober person, keeping her friend from getting into trouble. It was not her fault someone had spiked the punch. She thought something tasted a little bitter at first, but changed her mind as the punch seemed better and better with each cup._

_Before long, she was at least two sheets to the wind, if not a full three. Set to dance, and the song playing had the perfect beat for it. But she needed someone to dance with._

_Just in time, a finger tapped her on the shoulder. Meryl turned around to see a blushing Vash. _

"_I wanted to – well, just – whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry!" he blurted. Meryl looked him up and down. Still was not used to seeing him without his red duster, even though he still wore long sleeves and gloves to cover his scars. A warm breeze was drifting through. The lyrics fit just right as she took him in, locking on those earnest sea-green eyes – _

"_Your stare was holdin'_

_Ripped jeans, skin was showin'_

_Hot night, wind was blowin'…"_

– _but Vash took her silence as still refusing to speak to him, and turned to leave. Meryl could not help herself._

"_Where you think you're goin', baby?"_

_Reached out and spun him around and pulled him in, yanking him down for a hard kiss that rocked both their worlds. No need for the fireworks that went off at the party as they kissed; they were making their own._

"Our first kiss," Meryl murmured, arms relaxing around her husband's neck.

"Hey, the lady remembers," Vash chuckled, sweeping her around.

"The lady remembers the first kiss…and some other firsts." Grinned at the faint coloring of his cheeks as they continued to dance.

Meryl ran a hand through his hair and sang along with the truth.

"Before you came into my life

I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad

I missed you so, so bad…"

His kiss proved to her that the years since that first one had only made their love stronger, and she lost herself in her Vash.

"Should we do this again sometime?" he asked with a grin when they broke apart.

Meryl started the song over to keep dancing with the man she loved. "I don't know," she said coyly. "Call me, maybe."


End file.
